It’s the Little Things that are Worth Saving
by Jade-Max
Summary: The "Padmé chose another profession" challenge – Padmé as a Smuggler. Vigs 1-3 in 4 part series. Part 4 - Lady Luck - has its own thread.
1. Worth Saving

Disclaimer: It's George's sandbox, I'm simply destroying the sandcastles

**Title:** It's the Little Things that are Worth Saving

**Author:** Jade_Max

**Timeframe:** AU

**Characters:** Padmé Naberrie

**Summary:** The "Padmé chose another profession" challenge – Padmé as a Smuggler

**It's the Little Things that are Worth Saving**

"Are you sure you understand?"

"Clearly, Senator." The cool, polished voice that came back across the Senator's communications link was confident. "This isn't going to come cheap."

"I'm willing to pay whatever you charge. Time is of the essence."

"Understood. I'll meet you at the rendezvous point. I suggest you come well endowed."

The transmission cut out and the Senator slumped back in their chair. It was done. Now, all they could do was wait, watch and hope.

----------

"You are sure my frequent comings and goings today aren't going to be a problem?"

The customs guard posted at the docking bay near the Republic's Senate building shook his head at the concerned young woman before him. She was dressed conservatively, her voluminous skirts held in place by what appeared to be a Rancor-boned panier and hoop ensemble - one that looked heavy, but the guard knew to be very expensive. "For a lady of your station, it won't be a problem miss..?"

"Naberrie. Padmé Naberrie." She extended her hand with a smile. "Now, I've a note from my doctor so that you don't have a problem with my bio signature so I don't have to be searched upon my return. Will that suffice?"

The guard took the note, checking it over and then motioned to a female officer off to the side. "The note will suffice for me, but before we allow you into the city, are you willing to submit to a search?"

"Of course." She followed the female guard to a nearby station and watched as the various instruments for detection were waved over her body and gown. It took only moments and the female guard confirmed the Doctor's note with a nod. There was more than one life form; and the lady was being discreet about her pregnancy.

The male guard offered Padmé a charming smile. "We understand your taking supplies to various worlds that have been affected by the separatist movement."

"A mission of compassion. My own world of Naboo is so lucky to have a protector like the Chancellor. It is the least I can do." She stepped back to him and slid a credit chip across the counter. "For your trouble. I know my comings and goings are going to indispose you today, I just want you to know how much I appreciate your help."

The guard pocketed the chip, getting her message clearly. "Glad to be of service my lady."

She moved swiftly beyond him, her dress dragging heavily around her feet, hitting the ground with every step she took. Her pace was purposeful, steady, but graceful as she headed for the senate hall. Once out of sight of the docking bay, she hailed a speeder, slipping down into the seat with a sigh of relief. She was going to be expending a lot of energy today; she had best conserve it wherever possible.

Padmé's coming and goings through the spaceport security became routine through the day. She was back almost hourly to check on the loading and off loading that was happening with her ship, _Blue Skies_. She checked the placement of the cargo, ensuring it was being loaded accordingly, checked the schedule in her quarters and then departed again to continue her errands.

The guards, by the time shift changed, had recorded her coming and going over ten times. So much that they'd passed her information along to the next shift. She was stopped only once, to confirm her identity, and then allowed through without problems. Finally, as the sun began to set, the orbital mirrors moving the rays away from the planet, she returned one last time.

Her hair was sticking to the back of her neck, perspiration dotting her brow as she trudged heavily through the last gate at customs.

"Miss Naberrie, are you alright?"

She pulled a handkerchief from a space between her breasts and blotted her face and chest, offering the concerned young guard a smile. "It's been a long day, I'm afraid. Is my cargo loaded?"

"They're just loading the last of it now. Your ship sure holds a lot more than we'd thought she would."

She dabbed at her neck, her steps slow, but continuous, as she moved abreast the guard. "It's all in the packing, young man. Any cargo captain knows that their ship can carry more. That's why I've been in and out so frequently today - to ensure its being done proper."

"It must have played hell with your schedule."

She shrugged. "I just think about all those poor people I'll be giving these supplies to and I _know_ a sacrifice like this is worth it. Thankfully, my tasks in the city are completed and I'm looking forward to trading my city clothes for something more casual."

"They're beautiful, but look awfully heavy, Miss Naberrie."

She smiled charmingly. "A precaution for one in my delicate condition. I can't have everyone speculating about my lack of husband, now can I?"

The guard flushed, turning his gaze away. "Clear skies, Miss Naberrie."

She pressed a credit chip into his hand and waited until he looked her in the eyes again. She carefully folded his hand around it. "I can't thank you and your people enough for all their help today. A little something to share around. You'll find me generous."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she placed one finger against it. "If you don't tell, I won't tell, and you can keep it all for yourself." She winked at him and then straightened her skirts about her feet and continued walking towards her ship.

The guard's gaze dropped to the credit chip in hand as Padmé walked with laborious steps up the ramp and disappeared from sight. She stopped at the top, hitting the retract button on the ramp, ensuring it was closed all the way before expelling a breath. She slipped a vibro knife from her sleeve and reached behind her, slicing the laces that held the heavy contraption about her waist.

It fell to the floor in circles, followed by muffled giggles and cry of pain. She stepped out of the fabric, and crouched beside it, clearing it away from the large lumps in it. Two small heads popped out, both sporting buzz cuts, both with small braids hanging down over their shoulders. A third head popped up, green skinned with opaque eyes set wide apart in an elongated face that ended in a snout. Their eyes were guarded, cautious as they looked about.

She motioned for silence with her finger.

They nodded, crawling out of the large pile of fabric and following her through the narrow corridor. She paused by a bulkhead, and then hit a concealed switch. The floor plates pulled back to reveal a large compartment that was almost full of other children dressed in similar style, with hair done in the same cut, save for the aliens. She motioned the three in and then hit the switch again, closing the compartment.

Padmé headed for the cockpit where her co-pilot, Typho, was already confirming their clearance codes and had the ship prepped for launch.

"Tower, this is _Blue Skies_. Our cargo is loaded, our hatch sealed, request final clearance for takeoff."

The comm. crackled and a bored voice came back. "_Blue Skies_, this is tower. Clearance is granted. The airspace is yours."

Padmé buckled herself into the pilot's chair as Typho acknowledged the call and brought the ship's engines to full power. Padmé slid her headset over her ears and took control of the ship, pushing the switches to half throttle and blasting them off the landing pad.

They cleared the busy space port without incident, making it into the Coruscant skies without challenge as Typho inputted the coordinates for their rendezvous. Once they were clear, the ship hurtled into hyperspace.

Padmé sat back, expelling a breath and rotating her shoulders as the ship entered hyperspace. "Any problems?"

"I think that's my line for you." Typho told her amused, slanting a look at her. "You look exhausted."

She slid her hands down to the small of her back, rubbing the muscles to release the tension. "Can you blame me? I've been ferrying children to my ship for the last ten or eleven hours. I didn't realize there were so many. They get awful heavy after a while."

"You didn't you the stims?"

She smiled wryly. "Not initially. I told you I could handle it. Besides, our Senator will be paying a pretty penny to see that these little darlings at the rendezvous."

"He'd better." Typho turned back to the ship's read outs, checking their power levels. "Getting those droids to malfunction wasn't easy with their security. I had to waste one of those ready-made slicing kits you obtained."

"Then we'll include it in the price." She dismissed the comment with a shrug. "I want a shower, a stiff drink and a change of clothing before we do anything else."

Typho waved her away. "I'll call you if anything happens, Captain. You might want to let the kids out of those compartments too."

"One thing at a time, Typho, one thing at a time." She pushed out of the chair and headed for her quarters. She was going to shower and change first; then she'd see about those kids. They were fine where they were, safer in the hidden compartments than anywhere else; she simply didn't want to deal with them anymore.

---------

Their rendezvous point was a Corellian corvette named _Tantive IV_. Padmé let Typho deal with their pre docking procedures as she did a head count. They'd managed to get the youngest out of the temple three or four at a time. All in all she had thirty five children on board her ship. They were well behaved, withdrawn, and sat huddled in small groups in the various common areas of her ship as Typho handled the docking procedures.

Padmé turned away, hitting the secure transmission switch and bringing up the face of her Senatorial contact.

"I have your goods, Senator Organa."

"Excellent. How many were you able to get?"

"Thirty five."

She swore she saw his eyes widen in surprise. "I've been informed you're docking shortly."

"In the process now. Do you have my fee?"

"Never fear, my dear, you will be well paid. Name your price."

"Fifteen thousand a head. Plus expenses. Round it up to an even six hundred thousand, Senator, and they're yours."

She saw his throat work convulsively, and his reluctant nod. "You drive a hard bargain, Captain Naberrie. We'll see you when you land. Organa out."

Padmé flipped off the comm. transmission and turned back to find Typho maneuvering the ship into the docking port. She grabbed the stabilizing thrusters as the ship listed a little, and fire a brief burst, pushing the ship gently up against the magnetic port. Typho engaged the seal. "Docked and ready for transfer, Captain."

"Try not to crash the ship next time, mister." Her tone was dry. "Stay here and monitor the situation. I've a contact on board that ship I'm to meet to get our fee."

----------

Padmé waiting by the ship's hatch as the sound of her ship's pressure equalizing with the _Tantive IV's_ and opened her mouth to prevent her ears from popping. A tall, stately looking man walked through the hatch, a cape billowing out behind him. He swept into a courtly bow. "Captain Naberrie, I presume?"

"Senator Organa." She smiled, extending her hand and shaking his firmly when he responded in kind. "The pleasure is all mine. Would you like to see the children before we begin moving them to your ship?"

"I trust you my dear; you've been marvelous in acquiring the strange and unique items we've been requesting. I must ask. However did you manage to get so many of them out?"

Her eyes sparkled with dark humor. "Trade secret."

Organa looked taken aback for a brief moment before inclining his head. "I understand. I've a Jedi here who wished to meet you, to say thank you for all your hard work in helping secure the longevity of the order."

"I'm being well paid, Senator, the thanks is unnecessary."

Organa waved it away. "The Jedi has agreed to pay half your fee. Surely you don't do business with someone you haven't met face to face. Is that not what you told me?"

She nodded, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "If this is a double cross, Organa..."

Organa laughed. "Call me Bail, my dear. I foresee a long and fruitful working relationship so long as my coffers remain full. Come, come. One doesn't keep a member of the council waiting."

She followed him, but only after making a show of strapping her blasters on her hips, making sure they were within easy reach. She hadn't dealt much with Jedi beyond her occasional job for them through Bail, but she'd heard enough about them to be cautious.

Bail led the way through the corridors of the _Tantive IV_ towards the briefing room. "If your co-pilot is willing Captain, perhaps we can begin transferring the children to our ship? I have a staff standing by ready to assist him."

Padmé inclined her head, tilting her head to the side. "Did you copy that, Typho?"

"Loud and clear Captain. The hatch way is open, awaiting the Senator's people."

She arched her eyebrows at Bail, daring him to comment. He simply smiled magnanimously. "Resourceful as ever." He stopped near one of the closed doors and palmed it open.

The Jedi waiting for them was tall, his hair falling in a wavy length about his shoulders, standing with his back to them in a careful stance as he stared out the view port. "Thank you for bringing her, Senator."

"My pleasure, Master Jedi. If you'll excuse me, I need to see to the transfer." He pressed a chip into Padmé's hand and departed, leaving her alone with the Jedi.

The Jedi didn't turn, made no move to look at her. He simply stood quietly, calmly, his hands folded behind his back, his feet shoulder width apart, his presence filling the room so that it appeared smaller than it was. She tapped her toe impatiently, waiting for him to turn as the seconds turned into minutes.

Finally, Padmé crossed her arms over her chest as she stared hard at the back of the man's head. "I don't trust a man who won't look me in the eye; and that includes Jedi."

His soft chuckle was the last thing she was expecting. "Always straight to the point, Captain Naberrie. Senator Organa recommends your services most highly."

"The Senator and I have a long standing agreement. I refuse to talk to the back of your head, Jedi. Either you turn, or I walk out of here and talk half those children with me."

He finally turned. His face was handsome and far younger than she'd expected. He was younger than she was. His eyes were ice blue, calm, balanced, and met hers with an almost wry humor in them. "Master Skywalker, Captain Naberrie. I worked hard to ear that title."

"Fine then, Master Skywalker. You want to tell me why I'm whisking Jedi Padawans out of the Temple with the utmost secrecy?"

He flinched. "It is a... delicate matter. You see, another Jedi, one of my former Masters, has gone to the darkside. I had a vision about him. In it, he returned to the temple and slaughtered everyone; the younglings included."

She took a step back, shocked without intending to be.

Anakin continued. "I felt it prudent to employ the help of Senator Organa in having you retrieve the youngest and most defenseless of the younglings."

"What about everyone else at the temple?"

Anakin returned his gaze to the viewport. "They're all dead by now. Palpatine was a Sith Lord, but he was defeated in anger by Jedi Master Mace Windu. Mace has fallen prey to the very darkness that he sought to destroy. He is consumed by it, driven. The attack began shortly after you entered hyperspace." He turned his gaze back to her. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn and Yoda are the only other fully trained Jedi left. These younglings will help us rebuild the order. We're in your debt, Captain."

He pulled a credit chip from one pocket of his robes, shifting them enough for her to glimpse a bandage wrapped around his ribs, and offered the chip to her. She shook her head. "I can't accept that from you."

"You said yourself that you expected to be well paid."

Padmé shrugged. "Bail will pay me; he always does. Keep it, Master Jedi, you'll need it to rebuild your lost order; or hide until it's safe for Jedi once again."

"I insist."

She stepped towards him, took the chip, slapped it into his other palm and shook his hand, fighting the feeling that she'd stepped too close to a live wire at the touch. She pushed it away as she dropped his hand. "I've made a bargain, Master Jedi. I believe the supplies on my ship are also for you. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go ensure my first mate, Typho, hasn't killed anyone yet."

"You're not pregnant."

She paused on the threshold. "Pardon?"

He smiled faintly. "I have… contacts on the surface who monitored your progress through the day. They saw you enter and speak with the guards. How did you dupe the bio scans?"

She smirked. "Let's just say I have my ways. Trade secrets, Skywalker. You have yours, I have mine. Bail knows how to get in touch with me if you need me again."

She departed the room, her feet moving almost reluctantly as she turned her attention to the credit chip Bail had pressed into her palm. She checked it in her datapad, pushing away the image of Skywalker's clear blue eyes, and nodded in satisfaction.

One million credits. Cost of services, fees and delivery. She snapped it off, picking up her heels as she strode purposefully back towards her ship.

Her relationship with Bail Organa was always a profitable one. Her thought traveled back to the young man in Master's robes sitting in Bail's conference room.

Very profitable indeed.

_fin_


	2. Smuggler’s Price

Disclaimer: It's George's sandbox; I'm simply destroying the sandcastles.

**Title:** Smuggler's Price

**Author:** Jade-Max

**Genre:** Action (Quote Challenge Fic)

**Timeframe:** Post RotS AU

**Summary:** "The most rewarding part was when he gave me the money." -Dr. Nick Rivera (Simpsons)

**Notes:** Companion piece to "It's the Little Things that are worth saving" – Smuggler!Padmé fic

**Smuggler's Price**

Brown eyes flashed and narrowed as the sound of blaster bolts ricocheting off bulkheads echoed through the corridors of the small moon base. The corridors up ahead were filled with smoke and one hand came up to adjust the breather mask covering the lower half of her face.

_How did I get myself into this mess?_

The sound increased in volume as she crept through the hallways, blaster at the ready, barrel pointed towards the ceiling at a right angle and ready for firing at a moment's notice. But no one challenged her. Sweat made her hair, hanging down from a practical ponytail, stick to the back of her neck. She adjusted her grip on her blaster, her eyes narrowing.

Typho was dead. She'd left his body back there in the hallway; he'd died allowing Senator Bail Organa to get away. Organa had begged her not to leave the Jedi behind; that they were his only escape route. She hadn't been inclined to agree, or to go after the Jedi. He was after all a Master and could take care of himself. She forced herself to ignore the voice in the back of her mind reminding her of the Jedi's injured state; one he'd hidden expertly.

Bail had begged her to name her price, any price, for retrieving the Jedi, the last of the Masters in this sector. She had – a sum that would have caused many a man to think twice – but he'd agreed without hesitation and beseeched her to bring the Jedi back safely.

So she'd returned to the complex, stepping over the bodies of clone troopers, the body of her first mate and the body of a young Jedi Padawan who'd fallen in their defense. She moved beyond the corpses, putting their images firmly out of her mind, concentrating on what she knew of the moon base and its layout. She knew where the Jedi was; getting to him wasn't going to be easy. But she'd struck a deal and maneuvered her way through occupied territory, pausing only to collect a breathing unit and oxygen; the halls were getting thick with toxic smoke.

She'd began searching for the Jedi and believed, if her ears weren't playing tricks on her, that she'd found him at last.

She readjusted her grip on her blaster once more, taking the chance at peering around the corner. Her smile was tight and grim. She'd found him alright and walked right up behind the clones that held him pinned down. Taking a deep breath to calm the adrenaline she felt racing through her system, she carefully reviewed what she knew, darting another look around the corner. Three rows of ten, all advancing steadily, shoulder-to-shoulder towards the Jedi.

She bit back a spontaneous laugh. She'd be lucky to get five of them before they turned on her. But it would give the Jedi a chance to escape and she could always shoot and run; she wasn't obligated to kill all the Troopers, just save the Jedi. She chanced another look and then let off several shots in quick succession, five lines of energy spitting from the muzzle of her blaster before she ducked back around the corner.

The sound of confusion was instant as five of the clones, including their commanding officer, hit the deck. The sound of the lightsaber changed pitch, coming closer, and she knew without looking the Jedi had taken advantage of the confusion. She spun around the corner, taking a second to level her blaster and shot three more troopers as they took notice of her, ducking back around the corner as several others opened fire.

That was her cue. "You boys need to brush up on your combat training if a mere girl can beat you!"

She didn't wait to see the effect of her taunt, but darted away, rounding the next corner and taking up a firing position, almost fully shielded by the corner. Three Troopers came around the corner and two of them hit the deck almost instantly. The third ducked back, and she heard him call for backup even as he fired a volley of shots in her direction.

Her smile turned grim. Reinforcements meant they were running out of time. "You'd better finish up there, Master, if you don't want to be left on this rock!"

The sound of the lightsaber was steadily advancing, but she heard no reply from the Jedi. She frowned, peering out to quickly blast a stream of shots back at the Trooper who held her pinned. She didn't dare move back further without the Jedi. "What was that, Master Jedi? You said you _like_ the view?"

"I said," his voice was harsh, un-amused by her light-hearted comments. "It _needs_ a view." The lightsaber appeared and the clone that had her pinned down gurgled, collapsing to the ground as the Jedi limped around the corner, holding one hand to his ribs, the other clutching his saber. The wavy brown she remembered still flowed down to his shoulders but was now plastered across his brow. His tunic was singed in places, holes showing in the fabric where he'd ignored minor hits in favor of life-endangering ones.

"You look like hell."

He coughed, staggering as he neared her and she darted from the corner right to his side, slinging the arm holding the lightsaber around her shoulders, unmindful of the blade that was still humming, waiting for action. "Put that thing away before you get me killed."

The lightsaber was quickly deactivated. "I thought you might like a little protection."

"I have all the protection I need, Master Jedi."

"Call me Anakin." He leaned on her as she helped him around the corner and to the wall, letting him catch his breath as she moved to stand watch. "Master Jedi's a mouthful."

Her lips twisted under the mask and she pulled the spare off her belt. "Here. Those fumes aren't going to help your recovery."

He nodded his thanks, slipping the mask on over his head. "I thought you'd be long gone by now, Captain Naberrie."

Padmé Naberrie, Smuggler extraordinaire and Captain of _Blue Skies_, shot him a cocky grin. "I'm getting well paid to ensure you make it off this rock alive, Skywalker. I intend to be there to collect my fee."

He said nothing, simply took a deep breath, holding his hand closer to his side; the side she'd seen bandaged a month earlier when they'd first met. She regarded him critically and then checked for pursuit once again. Her shoulders relaxed fractionally. Wherever the clone support was, it wasn't coming from that direction. "If you're done having your picnic, Skywalker, can we get out of here?"

He straightened abruptly and she noted the lines of strain that formed around his mouth, turning white. "I wouldn't want to interfere with the collection of your fee, Naberrie. I won't slow you down."

"No, you might just drop dead on me. This way; I saw a first aid station back down these corridors. You'll be no use until that wound is bandaged properly."

He followed without comment and she could _almost_ see his relief.

They ducked through several corridors in quick succession, Anakin keeping on her heels with dogged determination, slowing only once when he'd reached out to stop her, motioning for silence. She'd turned to blast him for interfering when she heard what he'd been aware of.

The marching of clone trooper's boots coming from where they'd been minutes earlier.

He cocked his head at her, his blue eyes sparkling with dark humor, daring her to comment.

She shot him a murderous look. "Show Off."

Two more passageways and she ducked inside one of the side rooms. Anakin followed her, white under his tan. She reached for him as he entered and pushed him bodily into the fist chair nearby. He fell heavily, a hiss escaping between his teeth.

Padmé grabbed the emergency first aid kit off the wall and opened it. She checked the contents and then looked at him expectantly. "We can do this the easy way or my way, Skywalker."

His eyes were glazed as he looked at her; he was worse off than she'd thought. She stepped up to him and grabbed the front of his tunic, pulling it apart with a jerk of her wrists. She sucked in a sharp breath. His chest was tanned and muscular, ridged from hours of saber practice. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue, pulling the tunic all the way open until the blood-soaked bandage around his middle could be seen. Angry red blotches were visible through the cloth.

Botched patch job.

Padmé looked into the ashen face of the Jedi Master and, without a second thought, tore the bandage away. He didn't so much as flinch as the newly forming scabs let go, his eyes simply closed.

Padmé smacked his shoulder and pinched it sharply, acutely aware of the sensation of standing too close to a live wire. "Stay with my Skywalker; you're _not_ getting out of this that easily."

He smiled. "Just focusing, Captain. Your," he winced as she roughly, and quickly cleaned the wound. "_Tender_ ministrations are the time I need to – ouch! – regain my focus."

She glanced up at him. She'd knelt to get a better view and found the wound infected. Botch job; a deliberate botch job. She snorted. "If you want a medic with tender hands, you're looking in the wrong place. I pilot star ships, run merchandise and shoot blasters; I'm not your damned doctor." She slapped a bacta patch on top of the wound wondering which idiot had used cloth instead of the healing solution on such a bad gash. "Done. It'll hold for now."

He gingerly attempted to move his left arm; the arm he'd been holding close to his side and nodded his thanks. Their eyes met, blue to brown, and Padmé had the sudden sensation of falling. His tone was soft; admiring. "You do nice work."

She mentally shook herself. "Let's get out of here. I'd say we've worn out our welcome."

He didn't argue as she led the way back into the corridor.

----------

They arrived at _Blue Skies_ almost ten minutes later, clone troopers hard on their heels. Padmé rounded the corner to her ship and almost tripped over the bodies. Anakin's quick hand on her shoulder saved her from a headlong fall, only to lunge behind the nearest corner as a barrage of blaster bolts lit up the hallway.

Anakin's lightsaber flared to life, the distinctive _snap-hiss_ and blaster fire was reflected back the way it'd come. He spun and twirled, using his blade as a virtual shield until he drew near the corner behind which Padmé hid. The lightsaber dropped to one side, but he kept it lit. "We can't fight them all."

"My ship is that way." She motioned to a corridor across the hall from them. "Can you get us there?"

Anakin nodded and jumped back into the corridor, using the Force to send a wave of telekinetic energy towards the clones. The wave hit almost instantly, sending them sprawling. "Now!"

Padmé darted out into the hallway and across, Anakin hard on her heels as the clones struggled to their feet. They passed the threshold as the blaster bolts resumed. Padmé slowed her pace a fraction in deference to Anakin's injury, but continued on towards her ship.

They passed through the docking port, Padmé pausing only to ensure Anakin was on board before sprinting for the cockpit and talking into her comlink. "We're in; blast off!"

The roar of the engines and the subsequent forward motion sent Padmé into the nearest bulkhead. She staggered, regained her feet and continued onwards. She didn't want whoever it was piloting her ship any longer than necessary.

----------

"You want _what_?"

Padmé crossed her legs, one knee over the other and staring at the Jedi Master and Senator who were standing in the doorway of her cockpit. She'd exiled everyone from the room once there, insisting on doing all the navigating and piloting herself. It was her chance and her way of bidding her co-pilot good bye.

Now, hours away and in hyperspace, coming up on their rendezvous, she was speaking to the two about her fee.

She arched her eyebrows. "I thought it was clear, Master Jedi, or did they hit your head as well?"

Anakin looked at Bail. "You agreed to this… this ludicrous farce?"

"Perhaps you'd like it back on the base, Master Jedi?"

He turned a piercing look on Padmé. "And if I refuse?"

She shrugged, smirking, confident in his agreement. "I black list you and Bail and I never do business with either of you ever again."

Anakin was caught and she knew it. She didn't gloat, didn't smile. She waited for it to dawn on the Jedi Master, waited for his graceful capitulation.

"And if I agree?"

"You gain full access." Her lips twisted suggestively. "_Full_ access."

Anakin looked at Bail. "This is blackmail."

Bail shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't have a choice. She named her price for rescuing you."

"I'm not supposed to be my own ransom."

Padmé laughed, a soft, seductive sound that made her words come out as little more than a purr. "Why-ever not, _Master_ Jedi? You're perfect for the job."

"A Smuggler's co-pilot?" He looked affronted. "It's beneath me."

Padmé pulled a datapad from the co-pilot's chair and proffered it to him. "This is a list of all of the Jedi Bail has been able to track down. I've been asked to... retrieve them. It's short; only three names, but I can't do it by myself. I need someone who's good in a fight and good at the controls. I heard someone once call Anakin Skywalker the greatest pilot who ever lived. Afraid to live up to your reputation?"

"Hardly." Anakin accepted the datapad. "But I'll humor you if it means we might save more Jedi."

"I thought so." Padmé turned to Bail. "My fee?"

"I thought I was your fee."

"Your help, Skywalker." She grinned wickedly. "Though the idea has merit."

Bail coughed, extending a credit chip. "Same fee. You're going to bankrupt me, my dear."

Padmé accepted the credit chip. "If you play your cards right, you'll never be short of funds."

Bail turned on his heel and left. Padmé waved Anakin to the co-pilot's chair, wondering what had possessed her to include his help as part of her conditions. She shook herself mentally, pushing the thoughts away and checked the credit pad.

One and a half million galactic credits. Her lips twisted into a satisfied smile, the tension finally ebbing from her shoulders, the knowledge of credits in her account calming her as nothing else could. _As always, the most rewarding part was when he gave her the money._

But even as Padmé relaxed she knew with a sudden, startling clarity. Things were about to get interesting. Her gaze went to her new co-pilot who had taken the task upon himself to check her hyperspace jump plot.

Very interesting indeed.

_fin_


	3. Tension

Disclaimer: It's George's sandbox; I'm simply destroying the sandcastles.

**Title:** Tension

**Author:** Jade-Max

**Genre:** Mush – humor (Quote Challenge fic)

**Timeframe:** Shortly after "Smuggler's Price" - Post RotS AU (Padmé as a Smuggler)

**Characters:** Padmé Naberrie, Anakin Skywalker

**Summary:** _"Prayer...the last refuge of a scoundrel." -Lisa Simpson_

**Notes:** Smuggler!Padmé fic

**Tension**

"You're not serious."

"Deadly." Padmé crossed her legs, her hands gripping the armrests of her chair casually. It was a pose Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Master, had become accustom to over the last week.

"I have no desire to go back to Ansion, thank you."

"Well I do; my contact is there and he's got a lead on a Jedi that's not on our list. A woman by the name of Barriss Offee."

The Jedi's name had a reaction Padmé hadn't expected, kicking her female instincts into overdrive.

Anakin's eyes widened fractionally. He knew her. She regarded him casually, but assessed his reaction analytically. He'd known her alright, and not just in a platonic way.

His hands had clenched, only to unclench and rub his palms absently against his thighs. His posture had changed, subtly but enough that Padmé wondered exactly how much was allowed to go on between Jedi. They weren't celibate by nature, simply not allowed to form attachments. Yet, Barriss' name had triggered a reaction that spoke of an attachment, no matter how slight.

"Do you know her?"

He took a deep breath before answering, his nod even, though Padmé could detect something in his voice that hadn't been there before. Anticipation. "She disappeared on a mission on Ansion last year. I haven't seen her since."

"That's not what I asked."

Anakin regarded her shrewdly. "Jealous, Captain?"

Padmé smirked. "I'm woman enough to admit it; yes. It would seem that this Jedi has gotten further with you than I have; despite my charms. I'm curious; what kind of woman appeals to a Jedi Master?"

"I was a Padawan at the time, Captain." His look became pointed, closed. "The matter is not open to discussion."

"Oh ho, a Padawan!" Padmé delighted in ribbing him. "I bet you were reckless, in the throes of first passions. You blush! It must be so."

Anakin's eyes narrowed. "I've changed a lot since that mission."

Padmé arched her eyebrows. "Oh really?" She slid from her chair, her posture deliberately sultry as she sashayed to his chair, her eyes glittering dangerously. "I would venture to say it's not for the better."

Anakin didn't rise to her bait. Instead he leaned back in his chair. "Then it's a good thing I'm not interested in your opinion, Captain."

Padmé felt the barb but didn't so much as blink. "You should be, Master Jedi." She felt his whole body stiffen in surprise as she slid her hands around his neck; the electric feeling she had when standing too close to him returned immediately. It made her rash, bold; it drive her to lengths she hadn't before imagined. It was the driving factor in her quest to have him.

His came up, gripping her wrists as if to throw her touch away and she laughed at him softly, seductively, sliding forward to straddle his lap. "Surely a big strong Jedi Master like you isn't afraid of a little... contact sport."

Anakin looked down into her face, his vivid cerulean eyes flickering with something that resembled desire. "I'm not interested, Captain."

Padmé slid forward, watching his face as she did. It tightened, his whole body tensing in response. She pressed herself bodily against him, sitting almost nose to nose, her arms about his neck. She could feel his response against her, silently thrilled in it even as she purred; "I think you're lying to me, Master Jedi."

His nostrils' flared as her scent enveloped him. Cloying, seductive; dangerous. She smelled of engine oils and spices with a hint of lilac; a heady combination. "I suggest you think about flying the ship, Captain."

"I'm more interested in flying _you_."

Anakin's hands tightened on her wrists, pulling them back and away before bringing them down between them. "I'm not interested, Captain."

Her hands had formed half-fists and she looked at them for a moment before lifting her gaze back to his. Her voice was soft, pained, her expression deliberately disarming. "You're hurting me."

His grip relaxed immediately.

Padmé broke it, twisting her hands and gripped his wrists in response and, in a move he hadn't anticipated, pinned them against the arm rests. She leaned forward, as if to kiss him, stopping but a hair-breadth away and staring down into his eyes. He made no sound of protest but his eyes flared with anticipation.

Padmé spoke, her breath feathering across his lips, her own feeling the taste of his. "I could have your surrender right here, Anakin and I don't think you'd object in the slightest. An affair with a Jedi indicates you like your women strong." She paused and then pulled back, a crooked, charming smile crossing her lips. "But I think I'll wait until you come to me."

He watched her, barely suppressing a groan as she slid from his lap, all business once more, and back into her pilot's chair. She checked their course, pausing only when he spoke.

"You'll be waiting a long time, Captain Naberrie."

She flashed an impish smile at him before going back to her job. "The thrill of the chase is often better than the prize, Master Jedi. Though, in your case, I'm certain the Force will grant me an exception."

"Prayer, Captain?"

"The last refuge of a scoundrel. Mark my words, Skywalker, you'll be mine before we find this Barriss of yours. By then, she'll be little more than a memory."

"Rogue."

Her dimples flashed once more. "Better check your course, Skywalker, or you'll fly us into that sun."

Anakin turned back to his instrument panel, his body humming from the close contact, his sitting position uncomfortable. He controlled himself, carefully and with effort, to subdue his treacherous body. As he did so, he silently vowed it'd be a cold day in hell before he chased after her despite the silky feel of her skin, or the tantalizing fullness of her lips.

He resolutely pushed those images away and focused on his task. They were going to investigate a lead about Barriss. A lead that could possibly lead to a reunion with the woman he'd been in a very serious - but discreet - relationship with. A relationship that had been both physical and emotionally challenging. One he'd hoped to renew one day.

Yet, somehow, the thought wasn't as thrilling as it had been when Padmé had first spoken her name. In the silence of the cockpit, broken only by Padmé's breathing, he didn't dare examine why.

_fin_


End file.
